


Love of My Life

by empress_ofbloodshed



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:26:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27043456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/empress_ofbloodshed/pseuds/empress_ofbloodshed
Summary: inspired by the Queen song “Love of My Life”this one has been in the works for too long but here it is. finally. girls and gays gather your tissues and prepare to cryit’s basically pure angst but with all good angst comes the sweet moments
Relationships: Lorcan Salvaterre/Rowan Whitethorn, Manon Blackbeak/Elide Lochan
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12





	Love of My Life

When the diagnosis first came back, they knew they would do everything in their power to fight it. Rowan held Lorcan’s hand tight on the drive home, refusing to let go of his husband even for a second.

Stage two brain cancer. They found a tumor in his brain during an MRI after migraines that wouldn’t go away for days on end.

Rowan researched it all he could, trying to inform himself as much as possible. He wanted to be prepared. His husband joked that cancer was a bitch, but not as much as Aelin Galathynius. The light in his eyes wasn’t there. And it terrified Rowan.

Not to mention, their daughter had just turned five. Thalia was too young to properly understand what was happening, other than that Lorcan was sick and would be in the hospital. She resembled Lorcan more than anything, except for the pine green eyes identical to Rowan’s. When they first brought up the idea of children, Elide volunteered to be their surrogate. Just over a year and half later Thalia Whitethorn-Salvaterre was born, blessed by the gods.

The waiting was torture. Rowan paced in the hospital waiting room, his knee bouncing rapidly when Elide told him to sit down. She and Manon played a game with Lia, distracting her. Then the nurse came, telling them Lorcan was out of surgery but still asleep. Jumping to his feet, Rowan followed the woman to his husband’s room. He choked back a sob at the white bandages on Lorcan’s head, his hair braided loosely and so dark against the pale blue of the hospital gown.

“We got as much of it out as we could,” Yrene said. She was Lorcan’s surgeon. “Unfortunately, there were pieces we couldn’t risk taking out due to their location. The chemo should get rid of them, though.”

Rowan could hear the ‘hopefully’ at the end clear as day.

Before Lorcan’s beautiful long hair began to fall out from the chemotherapy, he shaved it all off and donated it. Their daughter cried because she couldn’t braid it anymore or clutch the tail of his braid when he held her. That night, Lorcan cried for the first time since he was told he had cancer. He sobbed into Rowan’s arms and Rowan could feel his own heart cracking.

Thalia decided if Da was going to wear a mask and cut his hair, so was she. It was painfully adorable to see her bouncing around with black hair that reached her shoulders instead of her waist, a mask that was too big for her practically falling off her face. Lorcan spent as much time with her as he could, before it got too bad and he spent most of the day in bed sleeping. Movie nights were now almost every night, Thalia falling asleep on Rowan’s lap with Lorcan’s head on his shoulder.

The first round of chemo was done. Yrene stepped into the room with a solemn face, now Doctor Towers instead of their friend Yrene. Suddenly, the pristine white of the hospital and her coat was intimidating and Rowan wanted to be anywhere but there. Lorcan squeezed his hand reassuringly.

_Lorcan, the cancer has spread into other parts of your brain, along with your body. This type of stage four cancer has very low survival rates. We predict you have just over two years left. I’m so, so sorry._

Rowan wanted to fight it, to do everything they could to combat the cancer slowly taking his husband away from him. But Lorcan put his foot down, saying if he only had two years left he didn’t want to spend it in and out of hospitals and too sick to spend his time with the ones he loved.

Elide sobbed when they told her, Manon holding her tight on the couch across from them. Even Aelin cried, although she would deny it until their last breath. Vaughan hugged his cousin for a long time, silent tears running down his cheeks as they whispered in their native language. If Lia was confused, she didn’t show it. Hels, she was excited about their spontaneous vacation. Lorcan wrote down a list of all the things he wanted to do before, well, Rowan refused to believe it.

They traveled all over Erilea, Fenrys tagging along as both Lia’s nanny and their personal photographer. Rowan’s favorite photo was the one where they stood on top of the snowy mountain peak in the White Fang Mountains after a three-day hiking trip, Thalia sitting on Lorcan’s shoulders and pointing at a hawk in the distance. Both were smiling while Rowan was looking at them with nothing other than love in his eyes. It was his lockscreen, the homescreen background of his phone still a picture of them at their wedding. Gods, that seemed so long ago now.

The two year mark slowly approached, albeit sooner than Rowan wanted it to. He didn’t normally pray, but he begged Hellas to leave the man he loved alone.

If Hellas heard his prayers, he ignored them.

Thalia had begun to pick up on just how sick Lorcan was. It hurt to watch her realize her father was dying. Lorcan hid it as well as he could from her, at least until he collapsed while teaching her to play soccer in their backyard. The flashing lights and sirens terrified all of them, and Rowan held her tight as the paramedics pushed the stretcher into the ambulance and the doors swung shut.

His husband reached for them both when they arrived, his cheeks wet with tears. When Rowan asked Yrene if he was going to be well enough to leave the hospital, she shook her head. Rowan tried to hide his tears, but Lorcan knew him too well. Yrene took Lia to go get something to eat, leaving the two of them alone.

“Hey hey, Ro, don’t cry,” Lorcan murmured, wrapping his arms around Rowan as he crawled into the hospital bed and stroking his silver hair.

“I don’t know what to do without you,” Rowan whispered, his voice hoarse. “I don’t know how to live without you.”

“Rowan Whitethorn, my husband, I love you so, so much. You have Lia. And Elide, Manon, Aelin, Vaughn, Fenrys, everyone else. Together, you’ll find a way.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

Lorcan flicked Rowan’s cheek; it stung. “Never say that again. Never ever. Thalia needs you, Ro. She can’t lose both parents.”

“I fucking hate Hellas for taking you from me. It’s too soon.”

Lorcan’s laugh was bright and deep, so much like the days they started dating. Back when life was simpler and they were just two boys falling head over heels for each other.

“Hating the gods will get you nowhere, love,” he chuckled, kissing Rowan softly, gently. “I love you. And that’s all that matters.”

Days passed, morphing into weeks where he watched the man he loved slowly fade. Every day Hellas neared Lorcan’s hospital bed. Rowan cursed the dark god, begging Anneith to keep her consort away.

The day Rowan had to sit Thalia down and tell her her father was dying broke his heart. It was the last swing of the sledgehammer, shattering it into a million pieces. She didn’t understand at first. But when she finally grasped the situation, she sobbed into Rowan’s chest.

Lorcan knew it was coming. Rowan could sense it. Even Elide could, calling in sick to spend the days with them in the hospital.

His husband’s cheekbones were too sharp, his face gaunt, his terracotta skin pale. He looked like he had aged a decade in a matter of weeks. And it was slowly killing Rowan.

The guitar Rowan loved so much stayed shut in its case, until Lorcan asked for him to play. Their song.

> _Love of my life, you’ve hurt me_
> 
> _You’ve broken my heart and now you leave me_
> 
> _Love of my life, can’t you see?_
> 
> _Bring it back, bring it back_
> 
> _Don’t take it away from me, because you don’t know_
> 
> _What it means to me_

Rowan barely made it through the first verse before he had to stop, his vision blurred with tears and his throat choked up with sobs. Lorcan caught his hand, holding tight and squeezing ever-so-gently.

> _Love of my life, don’t leave me_
> 
> _You’ve stolen my love, you now desert me_
> 
> _Love of my life, can’t you see?_
> 
> _Bring it back, bring it back_
> 
> _Don’t take it away from me_
> 
> _Because you don’t know_
> 
> _What it means to me_

Lorcan’s husky voice joined Rowan’s, singing along. Tears streamed down his cheeks. Both of their faces were wet with tears.

They ignored the nurses and doctors gathered in the hall listening silently, wiping away tears of their own. No matter how many times they went through it, it stung all the same every time.

 _Obrigado_ was Lorcan’s line. Always had been, always would be. The way the word rolled right off his tongue was pure heaven.

> _You will remember_
> 
> _When this is blown over_
> 
> _Everything’s all by the way_
> 
> _When I grow older_
> 
> _I will be there at your side to remind you_
> 
> _How I still love you (I still love you)_

Rowan didn’t want to grow old without Lorcan at his side. But he knew his husband would always be there, watching over both him and Lia.

> _I still love you_

They stared at each other, a promise in their eyes. That day, at their wedding, they promised never to leave the other. No matter what, they would never leave.

But sometimes the gods had other plans. And Rowan could do nothing to stop them.

> _Oh, hurry back, hurry back_
> 
> _Don’t take it away from me_
> 
> _You don’t know what it means to me_
> 
> _Love of my life_
> 
> _Love of my life_
> 
> _Ooh, eh (alright)_

He let the last note ring through the hospital room, clutching Lorcan’s hand like he might vanish before his very eyes if he let go.

Thalia broke the silence, rushing through the door and clambering onto Lorcan’s hospital bed. She curled up against his left side, burying her face into his chest. Rowan heard her mumble something along the lines of _I don’t want you to leave, Da. Please don’t go._ She cried, tears wetting the pale blue of Lorcan’s hospital gown. Lorcan kissed the top of her head, holding her tight and tilting his head back to try to keep the tears in his eyes.

Rowan couldn’t breathe, the room closing in and the air condensing into a thick murky sludge. He stumbled to his feet, rushing for the hospital courtyard. There was a small koi pond and a fountain. A statue of Silba stood in the middle, water falling steadily from her cupped hands. His chest heaved as he took in big gulping breaths of air. Sweet, merciful air.

Overhead, the thick grey clouds promised a storm. Lorcan loved storms. The man would dance in the pouring rain with Lia, laughing and giggling while Rowan sat inside with cups of cocoa or tea awaiting them.

Falling to his knees in the gravel, Rowan ignored the pebbles digging into his skin through the denim of his jeans. He prayed. He begged. Thunder rumbled overhead. A chilled breeze toyed with his hair, ruffling the strings of one of Lorcan’s old hoodies.

“Please,” he sobbed. The heat of the tears streaming down his cheeks was burning. “ _Please_. Silba, Hellas, Anneith. _Anyone._ Please spare him.” Rowan wiped his nose with his sleeve, choking on a sob when the scent of Lorcan’s cologne mixed with his soap hit Rowan’s nose.

It seemed the gods had made up their mind and there was no changing it.

It was fucked up. And unfair.

Rowan wanted to scream, to tear at his hair, to punch the statue of Silba until his knuckles dripped crimson or something snapped. Instead he fisted his hands in the gravel he knelt on, knuckles white and veins popping out. The stones cut into his palms, stinging when he let go.

Chest heaving, he panted until his breaths evened out. Until the feeling of his shattered heart dulled into numbness. Then he stood on shaky legs, turning on his heel to find Aelin standing in the doorway with his jacket. The look on her face nearly made all his hard work of composing himself fall apart.

“He’s asking for you, Ro,” she murmured, startling Rowan with the hug as she wrapped her arms around him and held on tight. “He told me to take Lia home, to let her stay overnight with me. He doesn’t want her to be there.”

Rowan took one deep breath, holding it until his lungs ached. Then he let it go, his body sagging along with it.

Thalia cried, screamed and fought like the hellcat she was when Aelin told her she was coming home with Aunty Ace. She clawed her way free and climbed into the hospital bed, clinging to her father with all the strength a small child possessed. Rowan shook his head, signaling for Aelin to leave until Lia fell asleep. When their daughter was asleep, Rowan lifted her out of the bed and handed her over to a waiting Aelin.

When he turned around, Lorcan was standing in front of the massive windows in his hospital gown, dragging the little rolling stand with his IV to stand beside him. As if sensing Rowan, he held out his free hand and wiggled his fingers. Rowan took his husband’s hand in both of his, squeezing gently.

“How appropriate,” Lorcan chuckled, even as tears rolled down his cheeks. “I was born during a storm and now I get to die in one.”

“Fucking asshole,” Rowan growled. “I would hit you, but I like you too much. I’ve never liked your dark humour.”

Lorcan turned, capturing Rowan’s lips in a passionate kiss as thunder boomed outside and lightning flared brightly. They kissed until they were breathless, cheeks flushed pink.

A calloused thumb brushed soothing, mindless strokes along the sharp edge of Rowan’s cheekbone. “If we had all of eternity together, I would never tire of kissing you,” Lorcan whispered, his voice low and husky. “I am yours as long as the stars glimmer in the endless dark, Rowan Whitethorn.”

“And you are mine, Lorcan Salvaterre,” Rowan replied. He couldn’t stop the shy smile that bloomed across his face, couldn’t stop it when he stood on his toes to kiss his husband again. “From now until the day the last star in the sky winks out of existence.”

They climbed back into Lorcan’s hospital bed, a little too snug to be comfortable. But with Rowan’s head on Lorcan’s chest, his husband’s arm around his waist, everything was right with the world. He didn’t remember dozing off, didn’t remember Lorcan kissing the top of his head.

Rowan awoke in the middle of the night to a crack of thunder and a bolt of lightning outside the window. He yawned, turning to shake his husband. Look at the storm sat on the tip of his tongue.

Lorcan’s eyes were closed, his chest still. His lips were frozen in a sleepy smile.

“No,” Rowan breathed. “Nonono Lorcan. Lorcan! Godsdamn it all to Hel!” The half of him that screamed to shake him, he was just asleep, fought a violent and bloody battle with the half telling him the shocking, ice-cold truth: his husband, the man he loved, was dead.

Falling from the bed, Rowan collapsed on the floor on his hands and knees. He pulled himself up shakily, using the wall to brace and steady himself as he headed for the nurses station. Every breath felt like shards of glass digging into his throat. The woman in charcoal grey scrubs saw him coming, rushing out from behind her desk to catch Rowan before he could fall. He repeated Lorcan’s name over and over again, as if it were a prayer and praying could bring him back to life.

 _Honey, what’s wrong?_ Her words sounded a thousand miles away, muffled and distorted like Rowan was several feet underwater.

The world zeroed in to the scent of the nurse’s fruity perfume, to the expansion and contraction of Rowan’s lungs, to his heart beating too-loudly in his chest. To the salty tears streaming down Rowan’s cheeks and his ugly sobbing.

He wanted to believe this was all some nightmare and he would wake up in his husband’s arms to that soft, crooked smile, telling him everything was okay and to go back to sleep.

Yrene arrived minutes that seemed like an eternity later, relieving the nurse of Rowan and taking him into her arms. They sat on one of the sofas in the lounge, Yrene rubbing soothing circles along Rowan’s back. She murmured soft words, letting him weep and mourn the loss of the love of his life.

He wanted to scream and rage, to demand the gods return the man he loved. He would fight them tooth and talon if needed.

Aelin arrived with a frightened and still half-asleep Thalia an hour later. Rowan took his daughter into his arms and carried her to the courtyard. The storm still raged.

“Da,” she whimpered, burying her nose into his neck and wrapping her arms around his neck.

Rowan sat with her in his lap, kissing the crown of her head as the rain soaked through their clothes and raced in fat droplets down their pebbled skin. “I gotta tell you something, kitten.” His voice was rough, his eyes already stinging with tears. “Your dad, he’sー” The words caught in his throat.

Thalia turned her unnervingly piercing eyes up toward her father, blinking with lashes thick with rain. “He’s part of the storm now, Da, isn’t he?” 

Rowan just nodded, unable to properly form the words to tell his daughter that her father was dead. And anyway, her understanding sounded so much better. Her lip wobbled before she sniffled. The crying began slow but then it was as much of a torrent as the rain falling around them.

With the end of the storm brought the crushing numbness. Aelin and Elide and Fenrys and Vaughan were the only things preventing Rowan from lying in bed all day and avoiding the fact that life kept on a-movin’, even without Lorcan.

Lorcan’s funeral was a simple, solemn affair. The sun shone bright on Rowan’s black suit and Thalia’s black dress. His daughter at his side, they waded knee-deep into the lake his husband so loved. Lia was sniffling, crying quietly as they let the wind blow the ashes from their cupped palms. Vaughan came to stand beside them, performing the last of the traditional funeral rites and blessing Lorcan’s journey to the afterlife. Then he hugged Rowan tight.

Their friends waited on the shore, all dressed solemnly in black. His heart still mourned, the ache unbearable some days. But Rowan made a promise and he would not break it. For their daughter, he would make the best of the hand the gods dealt him. The thin chain hanging around Rowan’s neck held Lorcan’s wedding band, the weight of the ring solid and comforting against his bare skin. 

He stood on the beach, waves lapping at his toes. In the distance, the green flash as the sun finally set kissed the sky before the darkness fell and stars winked into sight.

“Lor,” Rowan said softly, fingering the band on the chain. “You are mine. From now until the day the last star in the sky winks out of existence. Don’t you ever forget that.”

_I am yours as long as the stars glimmer in the endless dark, my love._

He could almost feel his husband’s husky chuckle and the rumble of his chest, those calloused hands tugging softly until Rowan was resting with his back against Lorcan’s chest.

“I miss you. So much. Some days your absence is crushing. I can’t get out of bed, can’t do anything other than hold your pillow tight and cry. It still smells so much like you, even if it’s fading. Those are the bad days. Lorcan, I know wherever you are out there, you’re listening to me ramble. And I love you even more for doing that when you don’t have to. But I’ll cut this short.

“I’ve got Lia. I’ve got everyoneーour friends and family. So I’ll do it; I’ll find a way. Our little hellcat’s going to grow up and I know you’ll be watching over us every day. I love you. I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving you. And that’s fine. Lorcan Salvaterre, love of my life.”

> _Love of my life, don’t leave me_
> 
> _You’ve stolen my love, you now desert me_
> 
> _Love of my life, can’t you see?_
> 
> _Bring it back, bring it back_

“What I wouldn’t give to have you here, with me.”

_I still love you. And I will never stop._

Rowan stood, brushing sand off himself. He turned and headed back to where his car was parked, where Aelin leaned against the side waiting for him. He climbed into the passenger seat, turning back to see Lia asleep in the backseat swimming in one of Lorcan’s old university hoodies, clutching her stuffed animal tight.

“You ready?” Aelin asked quietly. Her turquoise eyes were red, like she had been crying.

Rowan nodded. “Ready as I’ll ever be. Let’s go home.”

Lorcan now lived within the hearts of those he loved and those who loved him. He would always be with them, even when the nights seemed endless, like the dawn would never come. But Lorcan Salvaterre taught them to love the darkness, to find the stars in the dark and the good in the world.


End file.
